


Unshakable Conviction

by lindoreda



Category: Tales of Xillia, Tales of Xillia 2
Genre: Drinking, Eventual Smut, F/M, Getting to Know Each Other, M/M, One-Sided Attraction, Past Relationship(s), Post-Canon, Post-Game(s), Prompt Fill, post-xillia 2, pre-xillia 2
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-24
Updated: 2014-09-30
Packaged: 2018-02-10 04:49:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 16,403
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2011482
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lindoreda/pseuds/lindoreda
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jude had always been inspired by Milla's conviction. When Gaius decides that come hell or high water, Jude will serve him, Jude starts to wonder if maybe, just maybe, he has a type.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. First try

**Author's Note:**

> First foray into this fandom, and what do I do? I try to fill a kink meme prompt, and go off in a completely different direction. So this was intended to fill the prompt "Firsts," but they're not the usual firsts by any means. I based it on what they all say they're doing at the end of Xillia, so some details may contradict Xillia 2. I try to correct that in the much longer second part.

To someone not really paying attention, it would make perfect sense for Jude to lack direction after uniting the worlds, and try to find someone else to provide that direction. There was a lot that needed doing in the aftermath, but it had never been Jude’s quest in the first place. Milla’s mission had eventually morphed into something bigger than he’d ever expected, but it had been Milla’s mission. He’d just been along for the ride, and with Milla gone, it had to be like having the rug swept out from under your feet.

But again, that was only the truth if you weren’t paying attention. Jude had grown during the journey, striving to be someone worthy of standing next to Milla. He wasn’t just drifting along anymore, following someone else’s expectations because he lacked the backbone to assert his own ideas. Burying himself in Spyrite research felt like finding the thing that he could do. This was his mission, and he had the will now to see it through.

Gaius noticed. He’d noticed Jude’s potential from the very beginning, and made his plans to steal him away from Maxwell. Even when his Chimeriad had been whole, Jude’s talents would have been useful. Now that they were all but destroyed, he had a desperate need. Some might think it shameful, considering that Jude had defeated him, and put a stop to his plans, but to Gaius that only made Jude look all the more valuable. Maxwell had been a fool to give him up.

Buried in his studies, but no less firm than he had grown to be under Milla’s tutelage, Jude refused Gaius’s offer. His answer was the same as before, why did Gaius think things would be any different?

Gaius was surprised, but he hadn’t united Auj Oule by giving up easily. He hadn’t assembled his Chimeriad by being weak-willed. So he continued to offer Jude various positions. Nachtigal’s old palace saw more use than was probably politically expedient, but at least from there he could send messengers, and receive speedy replies. In Kanbalar, Jude’s refusals might take days to reach him.

Jude steadfastly continued to refuse. He needed to finish medical school, he said, ignoring how quickly he had dropped medical school and become an x marked criminal when Maxwell had called. The spyrite research was best conducted independently of any particular government, he claimed, forgetting that Gaius was providing most of his grants, and supporting his assertions.

He briefly considered cutting those grants, but discarded the idea. Jude’s research affected the world. It would be petty to take funding from something so important just because Jude was being stubborn. That he even considered doing something so weak told him something. It was the first time he’d ever been so completely and utterly defeated. Jude had not only bested him in a contest of strength, but now he was proving completely unaffected by his charisma.

It was clearly time to try a different tactic. Bold action was needed in war, and though Jude was only a single opponent, this was clearly a war.

He began by invading Fennmont’s medical school. Messengers could be ignored or sent away, but he could not be. Even his mere presence filled the school, demanding attention from everyone and everything. Surely, Jude could not refuse a personal invitation, especially when he saw how such personal attention raised his status.

Jude was not amused by the visit. One might even say it irritated him. He didn’t have a personal problem with Gaius, not really. Gaius was too much like Milla for Jude to ever properly dislike him. But the clinic was clogged with people that day, many of whom definitely had ailments invented by wanting to see the king when they’d heard he was there. It was amazing how fast word spread, really. Jude knew of Gaius’s arrival from his glut of patients long before the king made it to him. Even with the excuse of some kind of official tour, he didn’t need to be told why Gaius was there. He knew. And having a lot of extra work because of it did not put him in an agreeable mood.

Nor did Gaius sweeping into the exam room like he owned the place, though maybe that was uncharitable. Technically he did own the place. Or at least had the authority to close it down.

Jude folded his arms over his chest. “My answer isn’t going to change,” he said, before Gaius had even opened his mouth.

Gaius, to his credit, did not flinch, or otherwise react to Jude’s statement. “Have you considered the possibility that that’s not why I’m here? Your school has an important role to play in the changes to come. An official tour was overdue.”

“And I’m sure finally getting around to that tour had nothing to do with the fact that I started ignoring your messengers,” Jude observed, raising his eyebrows. Strange how mere months ago, mouthing off to a king like this would have been unthinkable. But aside from having done some growing up, there were some privileges to having beaten Gaius.

The constant harassment was clearly a tradeoff, but he was already getting used to it. It helped him forget that Milla was now completely beyond his reach. She always had been, in a way, but having it confirmed on a daily basis was painful. Gaius’s pig-headed stubbornness reminded him of her.

“You’re thinking of Maxwell,” Gaius said, ignoring Jude’s earlier statement.

“I am,” he admitted. He might have denied it once, but there was no point now.

“I don’t understand,” Gaius told him, studying Jude intently. “She cast you aside. Why stay loyal to her?”

“Milla didn’t cast me aside,” Jude snapped. It was a sore spot. She could have chosen to be human, but she hadn’t. But he couldn’t blame her for it. She had never once thought of herself as human. When offered the chance to be what she had always thought she was, of course she was going to take it. There was no other path for someone as single-minded as Milla Maxwell.

“I’m offering you the chance to be to me what you were to her,” Gaius continued undeterred, not noticing that Jude froze at those words. “Under the circumstances, I was not expecting such staunch refusal.”

“Wingul wanted to kill you,” Jude said faintly.

“But he never refused. He was simply willing to do what was necessary to keep me on my path. This is a first for me.”

Jude suddenly found that he wasn’t surprised. They had refused to stand aside when Gaius had decided that Elympios had to die for Rieze Maxia to live, but this was different. Gaius was offering him the chance to just skip the rest of school, and do his research in well-funded quiet. He would be the linchpin of a new Chimeriad, a position of honor and power far beyond any of his peers. But he kept shooting Gaius down. He didn’t even know why, except perhaps that what he missed wasn’t a strong leader to inspire him.

“I can’t forget Milla because I was in love with her,” he finally said, meeting Gaius’s gaze. “It was hard to know what she was thinking, and maybe she didn’t think or feel in the same way because of how she was raised, but I think she loved me too. My first love, over without any progress. You think I need another anchor, but that’s not really true. That’s not why I miss Milla.”

“No one who saw the way you looked at her would have thought otherwise,” Gaius replied bluntly. “I know you don’t need another anchor.”

For a moment, the words didn’t really penetrate. Jude was left wondering why Gaius had come. Then, all at once, what he had said, and hadn’t said, sunk in.

Had he somehow missed the part in the messages where Gaius expected him to fall in love with him? Or was it just implied that eventually he’d give way? And if that happened, and it was a big if, what exactly was Gaius offering?

What the hell was he supposed to say to something like that? Somehow his usual ‘no’ didn’t feel right all of a sudden.

“You’re still young,” Gaius said, breaking the silence, his eyes never leaving Jude’s face. “But I think you’re drawn to strength. You may have defeated me, but my ideals were the weaker. Here, I have no hesitation. You will serve me, and I believe in time you will love me.”

Jude shivered. He hadn’t realized how much he’d missed such absolute certainty. Life was generally full of uncertainty but Milla and Gaius had enough conviction to make it seem otherwise. Maybe Gaius was right. Or maybe he was letting that surety draw him in, convince him that he was in safe hands and that he didn’t need to think for himself.

“Well, you can try,” Jude said with a shrug. “Leia’s been trying to convince me that I secretly have feelings for her for years. I think she's finally given up.”

It was only after seeing the flash of triumph in Gaius’s eyes that Jude realized that for once, he hadn’t flatly rejected the offer. Well, he thought with a ghost of a smile, there was a first time for everything.


	2. Second Attempt

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rowen is most definitely planning something.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I never thought I'd write more of this, but playing Xillia 2 gave me a lot more insight into Gaius's character, as well as a severe deficit of Gaius/Jude interactions. So I wrote a little something that takes place a month or two before the events of Xillia 2, and there will probably be a part three taking place around the time of the true end. This fic does use backstory and worldbuilding details provided in Xillia 2, so be wary! It's also muuuuch longer than the first part, and there's a lot of talking as Jude and Gaius get to know each other. You've been warned.

Jude wasn’t disappointed.

Well, he was. Moving to Helioborg to work more closely with Balan hadn’t made as much of a difference in his Spyrite research as he’d hoped. That was disappointing, but to be expected. Communication lag wasn’t at the heart of the problems they were having.

No, the source of his not-disappointment was with a certain pushy monarch.

In Fennmont, messengers had been an almost daily occurrence, leading up to the personal visit. Messages had persisted after that, though less frequently and without the usual invitation. At the time, he’d viewed it as Gaius giving him a little more space now that he’d made himself clear.

Since Helioborg? Not a peep. He doubted it was because Gaius couldn’t get messengers over the border, either. Especially now that Balan had insisted he get a GHS, so that the lab could reach him when he wasn’t working. As Rieze Maxia’s most important politician, Gaius had to have one too. He could just call. Not having Jude’s number didn’t seem like the type of obstacle that would stop him.

So Jude wasn’t disappointed that he hadn’t heard from Gaius in months. It wasn’t like he’d asked to be harassed in the first place, it was just surprising that someone who claimed he would make Jude serve him would just stop in the middle of it. From what he could follow on the news, Rieze Maxian and Elympian relations were having a bit of a rough spot, which would certainly be keeping Gaius busy, but when weren’t relations strained? The Otherworld Reactor Plan alone was a diplomatic nightmare, and it was hardly the only issue. They were calling the Elympian invasion a war now, for goodness sake!

So Gaius was busy. It was understandable. Still, if ignoring people he wanted to hire was how he went about recruiting, maybe Rieze Maxia was in more trouble than he thought.

It was distracting him more than he wanted to admit. It wasn’t surprising when Balan encouraged him to go home early.

Home now wasn’t much different than it had been at school: a tiny sparsely furnished apartment was all he could afford in Trigleph, despite the fact that he was being recognized in the street more and more. Not that he minded that either, not really. Given how often he fell asleep at Helioborg, it hardly mattered that his first apartment was smaller than a dorm.

Jude was still fidgeting with his keys outside his door when his GHS went off, the tune signalling that Balan was calling. He pocketed his keys with a sigh before answering. He’d probably made it to Trigleph just in time to get called back to the lab.

“Did something happen?” he asked, skipping the usual greetings. It wasn’t the first time Balan had called him the second he got him.

“Oh, no, I just forgot to mention something before you left,” Balan admitted, his voice slightly tinny through the GHS speakers. “You have tomorrow off, so you should check out Marksburg! I hear they’re finally opening the bridge tomorrow, so you could even go back to Rieze Maxia for a bit.”

It was tempting. Given how strained relations were, he’d been surprised to learn that a city was being built on the site of the schism. That apparently the bridge between Rieze Maxia and Elympios was already done was even more surprising. The whole project had been dogged by Exodus threats, but apparently they’d accounted for that.

“Thanks for the suggestion,” he finally said, realizing Balan was still on the other end waiting for a response. “I might end up in Drellin though, given my luck with the trains.”

“Just ask a station attendant, it’s what they’re there for,” Balin replied dismissively. “And don’t get yourself into trouble while you’re there, hmm? We can’t lose our star researcher because he tried to fight Exodus alone.”

“I won’t,” he promised, though even as he said it he knew it would be just his luck. Exodus wasn’t exactly a fan of his. He could always call Leia or Alvin for backup if he needed to, though. Leia might even be there, covering the bridge opening for her newspaper.

His worries about Exodus calmed, there was no reason not to go. He would just think about work (or worse, about Gaius) if he spent his day off at home, so when the morning came, he made his way to the train station. After asking for directions several times, he reached the station just in time for the next train to Marksburg, which the station attendant directed him to with poorly masked condescension. It was irritating being treated like a bumpkin, but he’d faced worse since moving to Elympios. At least he was on the right train.

* * *

 

 

The train intercom had announced they were ten minutes from Marksburg when Jude's GHS chimed, announcing a text from Leia. _Hey Jude, are you going to Marksburg for the bridge opening? Would you mind taking notes on the ceremony for me? Thanks~ ;P_

Jude sighed, resisting the urge to rub his temples before typing out a reply. _I am, but I’m not a reporter. I wouldn’t know the first thing to look for. What’s so important that you can’t do your job?_

Probably a little harsh, but this wasn’t exactly the first request of this kind that he’d gotten from Leia. Or the second.

Leia’s reply was prompt. _I wanted to cover the bridge opening to impress my boss, but then he told me to go help out an important sponsor today! Can you help? Please? :DDDDD_

He did his best not to sigh again. Leia had him, and she knew it. _Fine, I’ll give it a shot. Just don’t blame me if you can’t write an article from it._

_Thanks! XOXOXO_

Jude snapped his GHS shut and stared absently out the window. Elympios was still as brown and scrubby as it had been the day they’d been dragged through the schism, and it couldn’t be more obvious as the train approached Marksburg. Rieze Maxia was visible in the distance, looking almost cheerfully green in contrast. From here, the difference was painful, and felt like too big a problem for him to solve. Could he really perfect a technology that would reverse all this harm?

“Marksburg Station, Marksburg Station,” the intercom announced coolly, startling Jude out of his self doubt. Shaking his head lightly, he stepped off the train right before the doors closed. He glanced at the train schedules briefly, but still couldn’t make any sense of them. He was just going to have to hope one was going back to Trigleph later.

Marksburg was busier than he’d expected, given that peace negotiations were still ongoing. Elympians and Rieze Maxians both milled around on the Elympian side, and it didn’t look like they’d come to blows yet. He saw Chancellor Marcia and Rowen standing on a raised platform near the bridge, and fought back a twinge of irritation. Apparently Gaius was too important to attend bridge openings, even ones as politically significant as this one.

Jude knew he was being ridiculous. He hadn’t come to Marksburg expecting to see Gaius anyway. He was just enjoying a day off.

Rowen and Chancellor Marcia took turns speaking, both expressing their wish that this bridge was only the beginning of a better, more unified future. Jude dutifully took notes, writing down what he thought would be key quotes based on the newspaper articles he’d seen so far. He also jotted down a few mutterings he heard in the crowd, throwing himself into the task more earnestly than he might have otherwise. Jude wasn’t the type to half-ass anything anyway, but he probably wouldn’t have done Leia’s job for her so thoroughly if he wasn’t trying to avoid thinking about something else.

When the speeches were done, and the bridge was officially opened to the public, Jude meandered through the newly opened shopping arcade. He knew almost immediately by the smell that Rieze Maxian produce was being sold here, or at least nearby. That was one thing he missed about home. There was something strangely chemical about the produce that came out of Oscorp, though maybe that was just his bias, since in Elympios nothing grew naturally outside of their well-regulated green houses. To be honest, he still wasn’t used to the kind of influence that large companies had in Elympios. The closest thing in Rieze Maxia were the noble houses.

Feeling a little homesick, Jude bought some fruit from one of the Rieze Maxian vendors. As he left, he heard them whispering to the others about whether they should use the fact that Dr. Mathis had bought their fruit as an advertising slogan. He resisted the urge to sigh. It was weird, getting used to being the famous one.

Jude emerged from the bridge on the Rieze Maxian side, letting a wave of homesickness pass over him before going any further. The city on both sides of the bridge was the same in theory, but he felt a difference. Maybe it was just that Rieze Maxia was home, or that he could feel the increasingly unstable spirit climes, or maybe there were just more spirits flitting around. Regardless, the city wasn’t as perfectly symmetrical as they might have hoped.

Breathing in the cleaner air, Jude almost didn’t notice the imposing man leaning against the harbor wall. Almost.

It wasn’t everyday that the King of Rieze Maxia could be found lounging around a port, dressed in Elympian fashion and without much of his usual regalia. His image wasn’t widely known in Rieze Maxia outside of Auj Oule, simply because he hadn’t had the chance to travel to every remote town and village yet, and Elympian technology was being embraced very slowly. It gave Gaius some anonymity, Jude supposed, but he couldn’t help being amazed that there wasn’t a crowd of people around him. Some stared, but you didn’t have to know who Gaius was to want to stare at him. Which of course Jude was doing just then.

He was about to look away in embarrassment when Gaius turned to look in his direction, a flicker of recognition appearing in his eyes. Before Jude could decide on an appropriate course of action (pretend he hadn’t been looking, run in the opposite direction, walk past Gaius without seeing him), Gaius had crossed the harbor to meet him.

“Hey,” Jude said, deciding that acting casual was his only choice now. “It’s been a while.”

“It has,” Gaius agreed, sounding almost regretful, though maybe Jude was imagining it.

“If you’re here, why weren’t you at the bridge opening?” Jude asked curiously, his irritation fading.

“Rowen,” Gaius admitted with a shrug. “He felt that it was unwise for all of the loudest voices for peace to be in the same place so publicly, especially when Exodus has made several threats here. I agreed, but we disagreed about which of us should attend. In the end, he won, but I still wanted to see this city with my own eyes.”

“But only from this side,” Jude concluded.

“Yes,” Gaius agreed, staring out over the bridge. “He also insisted I carry my GHS, though I’ve yet to figure out how to work the thing.”

Jude could hardly believe his ears. Gaius, who had sworn to become the god of the new world, who had stated with utter confidence that he could defeat Maxwell and Jude would join him, could not put that endless determination toward learning how to use his GHS. It was absurd! And yet, Gaius did need at least one weakness in there somewhere. Apparently technology was it.

Why did he feel so relieved?

As if on cue, an unfamiliar GHS ringtone chimed insistently. “It’s not mine,” Jude said when Gaius made no move to retrieve his GHS.

“I was afraid of that,” Gaius muttered, digging around in the pockets of his coat. He finally revealed a cherry-red GHS, which he flipped open and then proceeded to stare at while it continued to ring.

“Here,” Jude sighed, holding out his hand for the GHS. Gaius handed it over as if this happened every day, leaving Jude to press the answer button. “Jude here.”

A rush of static that might have been a sigh greeted him. “He’ll never learn if he keeps finding someone else to answer it for him,” he heard Rowen mutter, though it didn’t sound like Rowen was speaking to him.

“Rowen?” Jude prompted.

“Ah, nothing,” Rowen replied. “So, Jude, you found our king despite his attempt to go incognito?”

“I didn’t realize that dressing like an Elympian counted as a disguise,” Jude pointed out wryly. “He looks the same as ever.”

“People see what they expect to see,” Rowen advised him, and Jude felt his cheeks redden involuntarily. “Now, I trust his Majesty is on the Rieze Maxian side of the bridge, as he should be?”

“Yeah, he’s on the right side,” Jude assured him, glancing over at Gaius to make sure he was still there.

“Excellent,” Rowen replied cheerfully. “Now, can I trouble you for a favor?”

That was starting to become the theme of the day, Jude noted, flushing slightly as he remembered the way Milla would call him a ‘do-gooder’. “How can I help?” he asked.

“Well, his majesty would like to see more of the Elympian way of life,” Rowen began, and somehow Jude knew exactly where this was going. “We had planned to be in Marksburg for a few days anyway, so he can be missed, but traveling under guard would attract attention, and I am tied up with Chancellor Marcia. You may have guessed that he is not terribly pleased with being trapped on the Rieze Maxian side of things.”

Jude couldn’t help but wonder what Rowen was doing with Chancellor Marcia that Gaius could afford to be absent from, but maybe that was just a Prime Minister’s job.

“You want me to show him around,” Jude surmised.

“If it wouldn’t be too much trouble,” Rowen agreed. “I trust you to the task far more than a legion of soldiers, and you should attract less attention.”

He didn’t bother telling Rowen that that was becoming less true by the day.

“I have to go back to Trigleph before the last train tonight,” he began, but Rowen interrupted him.

“Take him with you! Believe it or not, the last time Gaius was in Trigleph was before our final battle,” Rowen told him. “He didn’t take much time to see it, as you may recall, and matters in Rieze Maxia have required his attention since then. We may have a ceasefire with Elympios, but it is always better to know your enemy, so to speak.”

“Rowen…” Jude trailed off. They were never going to get anywhere if they kept thinking like that.

“Forgive an old dog,” Rowen replied with a short laugh. “Old habits. So?”

“Sure, if I can help,” Jude conceded. It was only because he didn’t really have any plans aside from coming to Marksburg, he told himself. As someone who had stopped Gaius from destroying Elympios, he had a responsibility to show him why that hadn’t been a mistake. Yes, that was it.

“Excellent! While you’re at it, teach him how to use his GHS.” There was a click, followed by beeping, signalling that Rowen had hung up. Already feeling like he’d been given an impossible task, Jude handed Gaius his GHS back.

“Did you hear all that?” he asked.

“I did,” Gaius confirmed, his expression unreadable as always.

“So, where would you like to go?” Jude was suddenly too tired to think properly, realizing that he’d probably be stuck with Gaius through the night as well if he understood Rowen.

“For now, just over the bridge,” Gaius replied, and off they went.

Jude almost regretted leaving Rieze Maxia, having only breathed the cleaner air for less than ten minutes, but it wasn’t like he would have stayed much longer otherwise. He wasn’t very good at idle wandering anymore (though had he ever been?). He needed purpose, which was probably why he was always working in the lab until the wee hours of the morning.

As they walked, Jude got the impression that Gaius was surveying the landscape, taking in everything at once and judging where threats were likely to occur. Or maybe he was just taking in the sights. He didn’t seem to notice the way people’s eyes followed him, probably because it was a normal occurrence for him. Yet, Jude was sure that if someone made a threatening move, Gaius would be ready long before they got close. All things considered, he was probably the last person who needed a bodyguard.

Was Rowen in on Gaius’s recruitment attempts? He had to be, considering how Gaius had tied up resources at Orda Palace for as long as he did. Maybe Gaius had consulted Rowen after his last ditch attempt in Fennmont had failed, and the months of silence, followed by this unexpected encounter, were all part of a strategy. He suppressed a shiver at the thought. The thought of the Conductor plotting against him wasn’t a pleasant one.

“The air feels different still,” Gaius observed, startling Jude out of his reverie. They were already more than halfway across the bridge.

“The overall increase in mana isn’t enough to make up for the lack of spirits, especially considering how long the environment here is dying,” Jude pointed out heavily. “Nothing will change until spyrite technology is perfected.”

“In attempting to do that, how many assassination attempts have you faced?” Gaius asked, his tone faintly amused. Only he could find humor in that subject. Then again, considering how many assassination attempts he’d thwarted, he had the right.

“A few,” Jude answered vaguely. “Helioborg is a military base, so I usually don’t find out that there was one until they have the assassin in custody.”

“‘Usually?’” Trust Gaius not to miss the qualifier.

“Exodus broke into my apartment in Trigleph once,” Jude admitted. “After that, Alvin showed me how to set traps, and they never came back.”

Gaius shook his head slowly with the faintest hint of an appreciative smile. “Well handled. Still, I shouldn’t have left you alone this long.”

Jude stared at Gaius in surprise. “What? No. I’ve been fine, and Helioborg’s probably the safest place I could be.” He barely noticed that they were reaching the end of the bridge, and entering Elympios proper.

“That is not what I meant,” Gaius replied firmly.

Jude didn’t know what to say to that. Could he really honestly say that he hadn’t been disappointed when Gaius had apparently given up so easily? The vacuum created by Milla’s departure still hadn’t been filled, but Gaius had helped him forget it for a while. Then his research did that, driving him to work until he was too tired to think about anything but saving the world. And that was how he wanted it, wasn’t it?

“My offer still stands,” Gaius reminded him in a lighter tone. “In case you were wondering. It will remain open as long as it needs to, even once you perfect Spyrites and win the Howe prize, and Maxwell herself descends from the spirit world to congratulate you.”

“That won’t happen,” he disagreed, an embarrassed flush coming into his cheeks. Though he wasn’t sure what exactly wouldn’t happen. What would he do once Spyrites were perfected?

Gaius ignored his denial. “The Elympian side of the city looks identical,” he noted, as if they hadn’t been discussing Jude’s far too uncertain future.

“I think the architect wanted to emphasis that the two countries aren’t that different,” Jude explained, glad to be back on a neutral subject.

“And yet, they only managed to highlight the differences between them.”

It was true. The complete symmetry made it hard to miss that nothing was really growing on the Elympian side, but also the different ways people dressed, and the fact that the Rieze Maxian side lacked a train station. Though they were officially different countries, they still felt like different worlds.

“How does this city compare to Trigleph?” Gaius asked after a moment.

Jude started. “You’ve been to Trigleph,” he pointed out.

“True, but I wasn’t paying much attention,” Gaius admitted. “At the time, it was just where the evil spyrix users who were making war on my people lived. Everything was proof of their depravity. In hindsight, I remember little of it.”

Jude tapped his cheek for a moment in thought. “Well, it’s hard to describe it. If I had to, I would compare it to Fennmont, which has to be awake at night because of the night clime. Trigleph experiences day and night, but it always seems to be awake despite that.”

“An interesting comparison,” Gaius observed.

They strolled along the port in relative silence, broken only by Gaius asking the occasional question, and the shouts of eager merchants. After a while, Jude relaxed a little, letting the sea air seep into his skin and loosen his muscles. He wasn’t as worried about work, or about Gaius. He was just purposefully enjoying his day off.

Still, occasionally he would glance over at his companion, and find that he was being watched by those eyes that missed nothing.

It wasn’t even close to being dark yet when Jude decided that it would probably be a good idea to check the train schedule sooner rather than later. Not that he understood how to read it yet, but Gaius didn’t have to know that. A quick chat with the station attendant revealed that the next one was leaving in a few minutes, and there wouldn’t be another for several hours, and so on they went.

The train was fairly crowded with people like them: fellow tourists from across Elympios, traveling to see the bridge opening to Rieze Maxia. Jude was surprised when Gaius took the aisle seat, since he had been prepared to cede the window, but it quickly became clear why: Gaius was listening to the other passengers’ conversations. Of course he was, there was no better measure of public opinion than to hear it yourself, in unguarded moments.

“Maybe Rieze Maxian produce will be cheaper now,” one woman was saying.

“Maybe it will, but why would we want it? Oscorp has always provided our produce, and has Elympios’s best interests at heart,” her companion disagreed. “Better to not get dependant on those hicks.”

Jude had certainly heard worse during his time in Elympios, but he still flinched. Hick was better than monster, but Elympians didn’t have to deal with this in Rieze Maxia. Plenty of more rural Rieze Maxians didn’t even know that they had been attacked, and nearly harnessed as an energy source.

“Oh, because Oscorp’s produce isn’t full of chemicals?” Another passenger commented scornfully. “How do you think they get it to grow, when even the grass won’t? I won’t feed my children that garbage.”

The tension in the air thickened palpably. This too was an almost daily occurrence. Even in Helioborg, these kinds of disagreements were common, and usually had to be broken up by soldiers before someone drew blood. He’d broken up a few of these fights on his rare days off in Trigleph, though it was almost always a thankless task.

“Where you buy your food should not be a matter of such open contempt,” Gaius observed, startling the cabin into silence. “There has been no evidence to suggest that Oscorp’s modified produce is harmful. Similarly, Rieze Maxia does not have the economic might to use fruits and vegetables as leverage.” He left the ‘yet’ unspoken, though if Jude’s research succeeded, it would probably never be the case.

The argument didn’t start again, though there were considerably more looks in their direction now. It almost made Jude jealous. If he had said that, people would have insisted that he was butting in, and tell him to mind his own business. Gaius on the other hand got people to shut up and listen.

“That’s the first time I’ve seen one of those fights end without someone getting hit,” Jude admitted quietly. “I’m surprised you intervened; I thought you were just listening.”

“I was,” Gaius replied. “But in Kanbalar, I used to have to adjudicate similar disputes frequently. Instinct took over.”

Jude remembered the long line of supplicants leading to Gaius’s palace, and almost laughed. If they were all there for reasons like that, it surprised him that Gaius enjoyed being king as much as he did. During peacetime, the problems a king had to deal with were almost petty.

Conversation around them had resumed again, though with more looks in Jude’s direction now. He sunk a little lower in his seat, trying to angle himself behind Gaius’s muscular bulk. He was recognized more and more frequently these days, but he hated being recognized on the train. If someone had issues with his work, it was harder to get away. And if someone recognized Gaius too, they would probably end up in the paper. It was safe to say that he wasn’t a big fan of Leia’s new job, at least where his privacy was concerned.

Gaius seemed to notice his discomfort, and shifted in his seat to face Jude, using his back to block the view of the aisle. He didn’t say anything, either to ask Jude why he was uncomfortable or to explain himself. They just rode in companionable silence, while Jude texted Leia a summary of the notes he’d taken.

* * *

 

It was much easier getting off the train in Trigleph than it had been the previous few times he’d had the pleasure. It was a busy station, with a lot of people coming and going, so the crowd tended to crush around you. That day wasn’t any different, but they were giving him and Gaius space. It was a little strange to realize that he was used to the aura Gaius gave off that told people to keep their distance. It hadn’t been that long ago that they were enemies. It was easy to forget that, when Gaius had been trying to recruit him for much of that time.

“It’s busier than Xian Du when the coliseum opens,” Gaius observed, his eyes scanning the crowd intently.

“That could change soon,” Jude noted, leading Gaius out of the station. “I heard that there are a lot of Elympians interested in the coliseum.”

“From one side of their mouths they call it a primitive pastime, and with the other they say it might be fun,” Gaius replied, his eyes glinting in sharp amusement. “If only the law permitted me to participate.”

No one else would ever win again, which was probably why it was against the law.

“What is that building there?” Gaius asked, shading his eyes against the setting sun as he peered up at it.

“Oh that? It’s the Spirius Corporation,” Jude said, a little surprised. “You’ve heard of them, right?”

“I have,” Gaius agreed nodding slowly. “I can’t say I trust them.”

“They were big sponsors of the Otherworld Reactor Plan,” Jude admitted. “Up until it was no longer politically convenient. And now they control a lot of new technology. It’s probably a good idea not to trust them.”

Gaius gave the building a parting glance before turning back to Jude. “I’m surprised they didn’t try to recruit you, once they knew what you were doing.”

“They did.” Jude scratched the side of his head in embarrassment. “But the research was started at Helioborg, and Balan didn’t want a corporation getting involved. I didn’t disagree with him.”

“A wise decision,” Gaius agreed, but there was something sharper about his gaze now. Was he afraid of some other group getting the drop on him?

Then maybe he shouldn’t have gone radio silent for months, the more childish part of Jude thought before he could push it safely down. He wasn’t going to work for Gaius, and he certainly wasn’t going to fall in love with him, so what did it matter if Gaius pursued him or not?

A gloved hand pressed lightly on his shoulder, moving him out of the way of a planter box that he was seconds away from walking into. Jude looked up at Gaius, his neck reddening in embarrassment.

“You seemed lost in thought,” Gaius said, only sparing Jude a brief glance before turning his attention back to the city. He really didn’t miss anything, Jude thought, the blush climbing up his neck.

“I’m not a very good tour guide,” Jude admitted, scratching the back of his head to hide the blush. “I don’t spend much time in Trigleph, even though I technically live here.”

“That doesn’t matter,” Gaius assured him. “Rowen just wanted me to have a minder.”

“I’m not sure I like that title much better.”

Gaius did need a minder though, as Jude found out. If he saw a promising looking group, he would approach them and ask questions. Generally he would start by asking directions to something, then he might notice something someone was carrying and ask about that. They were fairly innocuous questions, but Jude knew that half the city would know about Gaius before the day was done. At least he wasn’t giving out his name. They’d be hearing from Rowen if that happened.

Jude wondered what Gaius was getting from his questions. He couldn’t ask anything important without looking like a reporter, and that probably wasn’t a good idea. It was surprising to see Gaius use his social skills, though. Given how much of their acquaintance had been spent as enemies, he’d never really seen why the people of Auj Oule had loved their king so much before he became Rashugal’s king too. He wasn’t just the strongest man in Auj Oule, as it turned out.

“You’re actually a real extrovert, huh?” Jude observed at the end of one of these interactions. It made sense as he said it, but somehow it hadn’t occurred to him before.

“A what?” Gaius asked, sounding faintly curious.

“Oh, it’s an Elympian psychology theory,” Jude replied hastily. “People can be divided into introverts and extraverts, based on where they draw energy from. Introverts get energy from themselves, from being alone. Extraverts get energy from being around other people.”

“An interesting theory,” Gaius said, cupping his chin thoughtfully. “And an accurate description.”

“Are you actually getting anything out of the questions you’re asking?” By then the sun was rapidly declining over the horizon, and Jude’s stomach was starting to protest any more of this.

“I’m learning how Elympians address strangers,” Gaius replied as if it were obvious. “Several of them have given me incorrect directions in their hurry to get rid of me. Several others had identified my accent as Rieze Maxian, and asked probing questions. There are cultural differences at work here that it is important to understand if both nations are to move forward.”

Jude’s stomach growled audibly, effectively ending that conversation. He regretted it a little, but the body had needs. He felt like he was actually getting to know Gaius better, and it was only improving his opinion of him. Letting his stomach do the talking probably wasn’t having the same effect on Gaius.

“If you don’t mind my cooking, I should have enough ingredients in my apartment to make something,” Jude offered, scratching the back of his head. He couldn’t really afford treating Gaius to a dinner more befitting his rank, but it would be much worse to expect Gaius to pay. “Nothing fancy, but…”

“I’m imposing on you,” Gaius replied. “Whatever you make will be fine.”

* * *

 

Jude began to regret the invitation during the elevator ride to his apartment. He knew Gaius was going to have to stay there anyway, but he felt the back of his neck reddening where Gaius had touched him. Maybe enclosed spaces were a bad idea. It was making him far more aware of Gaius than he should be.

The hallway was always a gauntlet of curious neighbors, asking impertinent questions about his research, or about Rieze Maxia. The handful of times Leia had visited, well… He preferred to forget. They at least knew that Alvin was his temporary guardian, so he avoided the catcalls if not the questions.

He should have expected that Gaius wouldn’t be spared.

“He’s a bit bigger than what you normally bring home,” one of his neighbors observed with a laugh. “Sure you can handle him?”

“I know I’ll take him if you can’t!” Another neighbor replied, blowing a kiss at Gaius, who raised an eyebrow, but didn’t otherwise respond.

Jude’s face was beet red by the time he got his apartment door unlocked and the traps disabled.

“Is it usual for neighbors in Elympios to take such an interest in other’s affairs?” Gaius asked once the door was securely locked.

“Alvin said they’re probably just using it as an excuse to gamble,” Jude said with a sigh. “Taking bets on my personal life.”

“And what determines who wins the bet?” Gaius had removed his boots and coat by habit, though it was hardly the norm in Elympios.

“The walls are thin,” was Jude’s wry reply as he started puttering around his tiny kitchen. “They’d know.”

“I see.”

Jude felt Gaius’s gaze on the back of his neck, but at least now he had something to do that justified not turning in his direction. He had just enough ingredients to make tofu miso soup and fried rice. Paltry fare for his king, but at least he didn’t have anything embarrassing sitting around, like Gaius dumplings. Leia kept bringing them over as a joke, but she also ate them, so they didn’t last long.

“Make yourself comfortable.” He heard a familiar groan, announcing that Gaius had chosen Jude’s ancient couch instead of the armchair. The armchair was probably too small for him, Jude reflected wryly. Alvin barely fit in it.

Jude was adding oil to the wok when his GHS chimed. He opened it, only to be greeted with a picture of him and Gaius walking through Trigleph. He almost dropped his GHS in surprise. A closer examination revealed that the picture was from Alvin, and the text read, _Care to explain this?_

 _It’s a favor to Rowen_ , he replied. _And who sent you that?_

_I have my sources. What are you doing? He must have won Rowen over._

Jude set the GHS on the counter, checking the oil and finding it hot enough to begin frying. Alvin’s text really didn’t merit a response. He was overreacting. Still, his GHS kept chiming with messages, until apparently Alvin decided enough was enough and called him.

“I’m coming over,” Alvin announced.

“What? No. Alvin, I’m fine, really,” Jude assured him.

Alvin tsked. “He’s in your apartment, right?”

“Well, yeah, but-”

“And you told me that he propositioned you last time, right?”

Jude flushed. “I wouldn’t put it that way…”

“Really, kid? He’s twice your age and said that he could be everything to you that Milla was. We both know what he meant, and you have a tendency to get dragged into things. I’m coming over and that’s final.” Alvin hung up with a click.

“Oh boy,” Jude breathed, setting his GHS back on the counter and returning to cooking. It was going to be a long night. He doubted he was in any danger; doubtless Gaius would have tried something by now if he intended to. So did he really need a chaperone?

“Trouble?” Gaius asked from the living room, startling Jude into almost dropping his chopsticks.

“Ah, no. Not really. Someone sent Alvin a picture of us out today, and he still has some Exodus sources, so it seems like you might have been recognized. He’s coming over.” It was kind of a disjointed explanation, but not a complete lie.

“I see.” Was he just imagining it, or was Gaius’s tone colder than before? “Does he come over often?”

“Well, Leia and I both needed Elympian sponsors in order to live here alone,” Jude explained. “My dad had to give up his Elympian citizenship, so that left Alvin. At 16, you can do a lot here, but you can’t drink or rent property. So Alvin’s our guardian while we live here.”

Gaius snorted. “You can dispel the schism, but you can’t rent property.”

“That’s what Leia said,” Jude admitted. “We went through so much, but the law says we’re only this adult, and still have a ways to go. It’s the same in Rieze Maxia, though.”

“I hadn’t thought of that,” Gaius replied, cupping his chin with his fingers. “I became the champion of the coliseum at 12, and was at war to unify Auj Oule for the next 10 years. Obstacles presented by my age felt minor compared with leading an uprising.”

Jude nodded, though for some reason an image of Wingul glaring at him popped into his head, and he stirred the fried rice with renewed vigor. Alvin was right. He was getting swept along.

The familiar sound of Alvin’s key scraping in the lock reached him, along with a mixture of relief and irritation. He didn’t need a chaperone, dammit.

“You didn’t put the traps back in. Don’t be careless, kid.” Alvin called from the door, locking it behind him.

“I don’t think I have to worry about Exodus breaking in with Gaius here,” Jude replied with a shrug, not turning away from his cooking.

“Oh, is that what you got out of that picture? I didn’t.” Alvin stood with his arms crossed, blocking the way out of the kitchen.

“Who sent you that photo anyway?” Good thing he had three plates… and only three. Jude shook his head lightly. He was going to need to go shopping if things stayed this lively.

“Leia. One of her reporter friends took it, and wanted to know if she knew who you were with,” Alvin replied irritably. “Obviously, she did, and blurted it out without thinking. It’ll probably be all over the paper tomorrow.”

“I’m afraid I don’t understand what makes it newsworthy,” Gaius interjected, causing Alvin to round on him.

“Exodus will know you’re in Elympios, your Majesty,” Alvin practically spat, somehow making the title sound mocking. “They already targeted Jude, but now they’ll think he’s connected to you, and use him to get to you.”

“Alvin,” Jude said disapprovingly.

“I can’t believe this was Rowen’s idea,” Alvin continued, ignoring him. “I expected him to have more sense than that.”

“Discretion is not his strong area,” Gaius replied with a smirk.

Jude froze, catching the obvious double-meaning. The stiff set of Alvin’s back suggested it hadn’t escaped him either. Then Alvin sighed heavily, and the tension was broken.

“You’re right about that,” Alvin admitted. “Jude, it smells like you’re about to start burning something.”

He was just in time to save the fried rice. The soup, thankfully, was never in any danger. Still, the back of his neck was warm as he served his guests, Gaius sprawled over the couch and Alvin crammed into the armchair. The mood between them had lightened, but apparently not enough to share the couch. That left Jude with a choice: try to join Gaius on the couch (something Alvin was likely to object to), or sit on the bed.

For once, Jude was grateful for his hard mattress. His soup didn’t wobble too much when he set the bowl on the bed.

“I see working day and night with Balan hasn’t degraded your cooking skill,” Alvin noted appreciatively.

“Oh no, this is such a simple meal. I’m embarrassed I didn’t have enough around to make anything more complicated,” Jude admitted.

“It’s quite good,” Gaius assured him. “Don’t worry about it.”

* * *

 

It was a mostly silent, awkward dinner. Only Alvin slurping his soup, and the clink of silverware against plates, as well as the faint chatter of people going about their business outside broke the silence, until Jude decided enough was enough.

“So, Alvin, how’s the business going?” Jude asked. He knew the answer already, and would probably know the answer until they finally got their big break, but it was the most neutral subject he could think of.

“Same as always,” Alvin sighed. “Whenever nationalism surges over here, sales decline. Yurgen’s still optimistic, though I don’t know long that’ll last. We need partners over here, but Rieze Maxian produce is too much of a political issue for anyone to want to get involved.”

“It seems hard to believe that not too long ago, your only business was selling information to interested parties,” Gaius observed, taking a long sip of his soup. “Though the accuracy of that information was often in doubt.”

“If you sell accurate information to everyone, you’ll have no clients at the end of the day,” Alvin replied as if reciting a proverb.

“Why?” Jude asked. A lot of Alvin’s behavior during that time, when examined with the knowledge that he was a spy, still had inconsistencies, even if he considered that Alvin really did care about the rest of the group.

“Because they’ll all kill each other,” Alvin answered bluntly. “Intelligence is only profitable if everyone thinks their enemies are after them, when they actually aren’t. As we’re not at war anymore, it was time to take up a more respectable occupation.” He said it with a casual shrug, but Jude knew it hadn’t been a casual decision. Just Alvin underselling things, as usual.

An uncomfortable silence fell again, there being nothing you could really say to that. Well, Leia or Elize would probably think of something, and normally Jude might have managed something, but his usual responses didn’t feel right with Gaius there. He and Alvin had been enemies once, but they’d gotten over it. They had shared struggles to base a friendship on. Gaius had been at least an indifferent ally, and at most their most dangerous enemy. What was he now?

Jude’s GHS chimed, providing a welcome distraction from the suffocating silence. It was Leia. _What do you think for the headline tomorrow? Dr. Mathis gives Rieze Maxian King a tour of Trigleph? I’m not sure people would believe it, based on the look on his face._

Maybe not such a welcome distraction after all. _Really, Leia. I didn’t realize that your editor was letting you write headlines now._

He hadn’t studied the picture that closely, so he’d thought it fairly innocuous. But on closer inspection, Leia, and by extension Alvin, were right. He remembered that look. He’d seen it a few times, when Gaius had let his guard down for a moment. He’d been speaking of his people maybe, or of the Chimeriad, and the hard lines of his face had softened ever so slightly.

He had wondered at the time if that was what love looked like on Gaius’s face. Before today, he hadn’t been alone with Gaius outside the context of a mission or a fight. He could honestly say that he didn’t know his sovereign well enough yet to accurately judge all of his facial expressions. But Gaius truly loved his people, which was why he went to such lengths to protect them, and Jude was sure that he must have loved the Chimeriad too, in his way. So what other conclusion could he come to? If you eliminate the impossible, whatever remains, however improbable, must be the truth. And the truth was: Gaius was keeping his distance now, but he hadn’t given up. And maybe he never would.

Jude stared into the remains of his soup. Gaius and Milla really were alike. And he still wasn’t sure if that made him more or less likely to accept Gaius’s offer in the end. The more time he spent with him, the more he leaned toward accepting.

 _He doesn’t yet_ , Leia finally admitted when Jude had the presence of mind to check his GHS again. _I thought, maybe if I wrote something before anyone else, when he rejects the article, the story won’t make it to print. It’s barely better than gossip after all._

Naive, but thoughtful in Leia’s way. _Thanks, Leia._

_No problem! What are childhood friends for? :DDD_

“Leia coming over now too?” Alvin asked with a smirk, setting his dishes on the coffee table.

“No way,” Jude insisted, gathering up the plates and taking them back to the kitchen. “This is already more people than I’ve ever had inside at one time.” He wondered sometimes if Leia and Alvin coordinated their visits just to make sure he was still alive.

“One wonders how your couch got in this condition in that case,” Gaius observed. It creaked ominously whenever he moved.

“I don’t know either,” Jude admitted. He rinsed the soup bowls as he talked. “We found it outside. Someone was going to throw it away, and I couldn’t afford to buy one so… We rescued it.”

It let out a creak like a gunshot as Gaius shifted so that he was leaning forward. He could just barely see into the kitchen from there, Jude noted.

“No wonder it doesn’t seem entirely safe.” He pressed on one of the cushions, and was treated to yet another theatrical sound.

Jude just shook his head and kept washing the plates. Maybe he should insist that Rowen come pick up Gaius. He’d never get to sleep if one of them had to sleep on that infernal couch.

“What is this strange box?” he heard Gaius say from the living room, apparently addressing Alvin.

“Oh that? It’s a television. You watch things on it.” What Alvin wasn’t saying was that Jude had easily the cheapest one on the market, and it would just lose the signal from time to time, or only display half of the picture. Whatever it felt like. He hadn’t wanted one in the first place, given how rarely he was home, but Alvin had insisted. It was the easiest way to get the news, he claimed.

“Interesting.” Gaius did sound interested, and when Jude emerged from the kitchen he was cupping his chin and staring at the t.v. intently. It was apparently in one of its’ better moods, and it displayed the evening news with no hiccups in quality or signal.

At the worst possible time, as Alvin’s picture from that afternoon was splashed prominently on the screen. The first thing Jude did when he recovered his senses and stopped choking was text Leia that she didn’t need to worry anymore. It was apparently too late. Strangely enough though, Gaius’s face in the picture had been obscured.

“That was fast,” Alvin observed, eyebrows raised. “You’re gonna have a fun few days, kid.”

“What are they saying?” Jude asked, sinking down heavily on the bed. Gaius remained oddly silent.

“Well, the anchor is trying to stick to the facts,” Alvin related. “She says that it looks like a diplomatic matter, considering that your research is pretty important. One of her colleagues assures us that if we could see his Majesty’s face, we might think differently.”

“Why is his face obscured?” It seemed like an odd move. It could theoretically be anyone under there.

“Chancellor Marcia thought it was important that Rowen and I not be immediately recognizable in Elympios, considering that we were so recently at war,” Gaius explained suddenly. “Both of our faces are legally required to be obscured in news publications, to prevent assassination attempts. Exodus knows my face, however.”

No wonder he hadn’t been concerned about being recognized.

“It sounds like there are some concerns about increased involvement by Rieze Maxia at Helioborg,” Alvin related, still translating the text flowing along the bottom of the screen. “As baseless speculation goes, it could be worse. If his Majesty’s face was allowed to be aired, it would be worse.”

“Oh?” Gaius’s voice had taken on a dangerous edge, and Jude remembered that he hadn’t actually shown him the picture. Alvin promptly obliged, flipping open his GHS and handing it over.

Gaius’s expression was unreadable as he studied the photo, but that was hardly unusual. His face was equally blank as he handed the GHS back.

“I will seek other accommodations, as I seem to have worn out my welcome,” Gaius said finally, his face carefully blank. He rose as he said it, the couch letting out another threatening groan.

“Don’t,” Jude insisted, with a quelling look at Alvin. Gaius paused. “I agreed to do Rowen this favor, so I'm not just going to throw you out. Exodus knows better than to attack here, and I’ll be safe back in Helioborg. I knew what I was getting into. ” They all knew what he meant. Alvin raised his eyebrows slightly, but shrugged when he met Jude’s steely gaze.

“Have it your way, kid. Just remember, I nearly got him out of your hair.” It was Alvin’s turn to stand and prepare to leave, his chaperoning apparently done.

“I don’t remember asking for your help,” Jude replied, crossing his arms. “You just decided to come over.”

“Yeah, yeah…” Alvin gave his casual two-fingered salute. “Your Majesty. Dr. Mathis.” The door closed behind him with a click, and Jude hastily reset his traps.

“He’s become remarkably responsible,” Gaius observed from the living room, though given that Alvin had just left them alone, it felt like an ill-timed observation. He was back to his original position, leaning back against the couch with his arms spread behind him on the cushions. It was made for three people, but he was somehow taking up all of it.

“Leia, Elize and I aren’t the only ones who grew up a little after the Zenethra, and after Agria and Presa fell off the Nia Khera Hallowmont,” Jude replied wearily, settling into the armchair.

Gaius seemed to be studying his expression, as if there was more there than what he was saying. “I forget how young you are, at times,” he admitted. “Yet still old enough to defeat me.” He sounded almost nostalgic about that fight.

“The peace accords must be boring you, if you’re getting misty-eyed about being beaten by a bunch of kids, your Prime Minister, and a spy,” Jude said flatly, realizing after he said it that he was teasing Gaius. Yet another thing he never would have imagined himself doing.

“Diplomacy is a necessary part of any peace process, but in the past I could at least spar with Jiao during a break,” Gaius replied, not denying it in the least. “Rowen will claim that his back is acting up, and wander off to spend tax money on a massage.”

That sounded about right. “I’d offer to spar, but there’s no room in here, and I’d rather not be on the news again until I have research progress to report. I’m also pretty out of practice,” Jude admitted, his cheeks slightly flushed in embarrassment. If he had to stop Gaius again, he might not be able to.

There was something in Gaius’s eyes that might have been regret, before it was replaced by his usual expression. “Even in peacetime, it is unwise to neglect your training. Given your nature, it will be no time at all before your fighting skills are needed again.”

Jude was again strongly reminded of Milla, and looked away.

“I apologize,” Gaius said suddenly. “I made you think of Maxwell.”

Jude turned back to look at him, his mouth hanging open. “How can you always tell when I’m thinking about her?”

“You touch your throat,” Gaius admitted.

“Huh.”

He hadn’t even noticed he was doing it, but that was where Milla’s glass bead had been until recently. Wearing it had felt too much like moping, and he’d put it away. Apparently that hadn’t quite broken the habit, though.

“Even now, you work for Maxwell’s sake.” Gaius was watching him intently, and it was hard to look away. “But what will you do when Spyrites are perfected?”

It was like having the wind knocked out of him. “I’ve never really considered it,” he admitted honestly. “It’s going to take years, maybe even decades. I can’t view it as anything other than my life’s work.”

Gaius settled back on the couch, a glint of amusement in his eyes. “Betting is an important cultural passtime in Elympios, correct? Then let us make a bet.”

“Oh? What kind of bet?” Jude was interested despite himself.

“It took me ten years to unify Auj Oule. A full decade. If it takes you less than that to win the Howe Prize, you will work for me afterwards.”

“Wait, so finishing in less than a decade counts as losing the bet?” Jude scratched his head. “What happens if it takes more than a decade? I could easily cheat, and make it take that long, even if it didn’t need to.”

“If it takes more than a decade, I won’t bother you again,” Gaius assured him. “I have no doubt in your honesty, which is how I know you won’t cheat.”

Somehow, both scenarios felt like a loss in some way. Why should he bet that something so important was going to take a long time? Yet, some days, it really did feel like this was going to take his entire lifetime. And Gaius thought it could be done in less than a decade? Ridiculous. This from a man who couldn’t work his GHS.

“Bring it on,” Jude finally said, extending a hand. When Gaius’s hand closed over his in a firm handshake, he began to wonder if maybe this was why Alvin hated gambling. He’d gotten carried away by the flow again.

* * *

 

Realizing how late it was, there was a brief disagreement over who would use the bed. The deciding factor was Gaius lying down on it to demonstrate that he fit on the tiny bed and the couch equally poorly, so Jude might as well sleep in his own bed, no matter how much politeness dictated otherwise. So he could add “having a king crash on the couch” to the list of things that would have sounded ridiculous a year ago.

Maybe it was no surprise that he couldn’t fall asleep. He tossed and turned, filled with nervous energy and unable to calm down. Moreover, he could tell by Gaius’s breathing that he wasn’t asleep yet either, and it was probably his fault for making so much noise. He didn’t even know what was wrong! It had been a tiring day, yet the second he closed his eyes, he wanted to be awake again.

Finally, Jude gave up, flinging the covers off with a huff and massaging his temples. There was one last thing he could try before giving sleep up as impossible, and he’d still be falling asleep on the job tomorrow. With an air of resignation, Jude tip-toed into the kitchen. Wincing as several pans were dislodged in his attempt to get the smallest one, Jude heated the last of his milk, downing it quickly.

Gaius was sitting up and staring in his direction when he emerged from the kitchen. His hair was slightly tousled, his eyes half-lidded as if he’d actually been asleep, though Jude knew better. Jude’s heart sped up for a moment before he remembered that he’d actually seen Gaius shirtless before, so barefoot in pants and an undershirt really shouldn’t faze him. Still, it felt more intimate.

He knew he was about to make a bad decision, but following Milla into Laforte had been a really bad decision, and somehow that had worked out in the end. He was across the room before he knew it, steps away from Gaius, who was watching him with the air of someone trying not to spook a wild animal.

“Jude?” he spoke cautiously, his eyes never leaving Jude’s face.

How had he never noticed that Gaius’s eyes were the same color as Milla’s? That same shade of reddish-purple that couldn’t possibly be natural.

“I couldn’t sleep,” Jude said, surprised by how breathless he sounded.

Gaius extended an arm, indicating that Jude could join him on the couch. As if the creaky couch was his throne in Kanbalar. Still, Jude’s legs moved as if against his own will, covering those last few steps in an instant. The couch groaned at the new weight, but Jude barely heard it. He wasn’t touching Gaius, but he felt warmth radiating off him, and it made him want to get even closer.

Sitting, Jude had to look up to make eye contact, and instantly felt that same pull, trapped by those eyes. Normally cool and detached, now Gaius’s eyes reminded him of dancing flames. You’ll regret this, an inner voice was saying, but he was already leaning in. He was almost there when he felt Gaius’s arm slide around his shoulders, solid and comforting, and he knew he’d passed the point of no return.

Which of course was when there was a thud on the front door, followed by hissing sounds. Snapped back to reality in an instant, Jude’s first thought was a gas canister, and he was on his feet before he knew it. Barely taking the time to disable his traps, he wrenched the front door open.

He was nearly crushed by Alvin, Leia, Elize, and Rowen for his trouble. The four of them had apparently been leaning on his door, and Leia had her notepad ready.

A vein in his head throbbed painfully.

Not trusting himself to speak, Jude simply raised an eyebrow.

“Sorry Jude, but this is real political intrigue! My boss took one look at that picture and insisted I get over here-” Leia began, only to be cut off by Alvin.

“I couldn’t just leave you alone with him-”

“Are you really two-timing Milla?” That one was Teepo, and Jude felt the vein throb again.

“I simply wanted to check on how things were going,” Rowen insisted.

Jude sighed heavily. “First of all, you took Elize out of school for this?” His eyebrow twitched higher.

“I’ll be back in time for tomorrow!” Elize insisted.

“It’s one in the morning,” Jude replied flatly. “The trains don’t run this late.”

“Well then, I suppose we all have no choice but to stay here for the night,” Rowen reasoned with a jaunty wink. “Or are old friends no longer welcome?”

“Yeah, yeah, can we?” Leia’s eyes were shining like she’d never wanted anything more.

Jude sighed again. “There won’t be much room-”

“Great, thanks!” Alvin this time, elbowing his way inside, with the others in tow.

In the end, Leia and Elize snuggled up on the bed, Jude curled up in the armchair, Rowen wheedled his way into the couch, leaving Alvin and Gaius on the floor with pillows. No one slept much that night, and the morning was a confused, groggy mess of Jude trying to stretch his meager kitchen to feed six people breakfast before they all departed to their separate trains.

In all the confusion, Jude forgot to show Gaius how to use his GHS. But for just one night, for the very first time, he forgot that he missed Milla. It wasn’t much, but it was a start.


	3. Decision

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Having achieved everything he set out to achieve, Jude finally has to make a decision.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Quick notes about this part: this is where the smut lives. You've been warned. It takes place around the time of Xillia 2's true end, and I had to guess about how much time had passed. My guess was eight years, though it could have been less.

Eight years was a long time. A third of Jude’s life at his age, and yet he felt like it had been gone in a flash. It wasn’t as though those years had been boring or uneventful. There was a lot to do to get Spyrites ready for commercial use even once control was no longer an issue. There had been papers to write (so many papers), tests to run, years of clinical trials, to say nothing of finding good sources of spirit fossils, and finding companies willing to put their money behind it. He had to prove to all affected governments that they weren’t harmful, document the slow retraction of Fennmont’s night clime as they became more commercial, take flora and fauna samples from across Elympios to demonstrate environmental impact… Actually getting Spyrites to work had been trivial compared to proving their commercial value, and getting people to actually use them. Jude had been incredibly busy in those eight years, because sometimes saving the world wasn’t as simple as beating up a few bad guys.

Despite all that, he felt like it should have taken longer. He was 24, the youngest recipient of the Howe Prize, and his life’s work was done. Signed, sealed, delivered, made profitable on a corporate scale. His promise with Milla was fulfilled. So, as he sat in the medical school library, fidgeting with his award, he couldn’t help wondering: what next?

It was strange to realize that he could do whatever he wanted, within legal limits of course. The money from his research, as well as from the Howe Prize, was enough that he could live pretty comfortably if he was careful. He didn’t have to do anything. He just wouldn’t be able to respect himself if he didn’t.

He knew what Leia would say. In the post-award ceremony interview, she’d made that pretty clear.

“So, what’s next for you, Jude? Got any plans?” Despite being Chief Editor, she’d insisted on covering this story herself. No one else would be able to do it justice, she claimed. So much for journalistic integrity.

“I don’t really know,” he’d admitted. “I’m kind of at loose ends. I haven’t had this little to do in years.”

“Aw, I can’t print that,” Leia had complained, though she’d followed it up with a wink. “How about I put you down for, ‘looking for another way to save the world?’”

He hadn’t had the heart to say, “I think three times is enough for anyone.” Probably because if he was being honest, it wasn’t. His life couldn’t be over at 24, dammit. He wasn’t jaded enough to believe that yet.

Give it a few more days of feeling useless and he’d get there. He was lucky the award ceremony gave the students the afternoon off, or he’d have very interested company for his moping. Hell, he was lucky Alvin had bribed Balan into going back to Trigleph early, or he never would have been able to escape.

Jude laid his head on the table gently. The youngest recipient of the Howe Prize had no business moping. He should be happy. He’d changed the world in an undeniable way. Now spirits and humans could peacefully and prosperously coexist.

But it wouldn’t bring Milla back to the human realm.

At the heart of it, that was the real problem. Some part of him had always believed that maybe perfecting Spyrites would make it possible for Milla to come back from the spirit world. It was a stupid, childish hope, and he knew it. He knew that Milla would never jeopardize the world’s mana by taking human form unless it was absolutely necessary. It would probably be centuries before it happened again. If it happened again. But still. He’d fulfilled his promise to her. It would have been nice to have that acknowledged by the spirits as well.

The hard part wasn’t finding something else to do with his life. It was letting go of the possibility of seeing Milla again. But it had been eight years. A third of his life. It was probably time to give it a rest.

“Alvin is wondering where you ran off to.”

A deep masculine voice surprised Jude out of his self-pity. He turned in his chair, heart thudding as he recognized his king. Gaius had been at the award ceremony in his official capacity, though if his abrupt costume change was any indication, his attendance at the after party was not official. As if anyone in Fennmont would be fooled for a second.

Nervous and slightly nauseous at the ceremony, Jude hadn’t really paid much attention to anything except what he was required to say and do. So he had missed noticing the thin strands of silver that threaded Gaius’s dark hair, reminding Jude that however little he may have felt the passage of time, it had passed nevertheless. He felt like the last time he’d seen Gaius had been the week before, but it was closer to six months, when he’d given his last presentation to the Rieze Maxian government.

Maybe he needed to get out more.

“It’s my party, I can skip it if I want to.” It came out more petulant than Jude had intended, and he winced. Maybe being alone with his self-pity wasn’t a good idea. But why would Alvin send Gaius to look for him?

Gaius inclined his head, as if accepting this answer. “Then I suppose it’s on to business.”

“Business?” Gaius had hit on the one thing that could pull him out of his wallowing.

“Do you remember a bet we made, eight years ago?” Gaius asked him, leaning on a table and crossing his arms.

“A bet?” Jude scratched his head. It sounded familiar, but if he remembered correctly, that bet had happened on a day that he’d made an effort not to think about in years. He couldn’t remember what it had been about anymore. He did remember that he’d been seconds away from kissing Gaius that day, but the subject of the bet was anyone’s guess. “I don’t really.”

Gaius didn’t seem surprised to hear that. “You believed that perfecting Spyrites would take decades. I had more faith in you, and bet that it would take less than one.”

“Wait, I bet against myself?” Jude raised his eyebrows. “How did you talk me into that?”

“I imagine my offer was persuasive,” Gaius replied, one side of his lips curled up in a smirk. “If you were right, I agreed never to bring up the subject of working for me again. But if I was right…”

Jude didn’t have to remember agreeing to that to know why he had, and career planning had nothing to do with it. He’d been truly considering Gaius’s offer, and the bet had given him a way to accept it without looking like an idiot for refusing all of those times. And hormones too, probably. Even now, apparently bound to that bet, he couldn’t be too upset at his younger self.

“Going straight into government work after winning the Howe Prize,” Jude concluded wryly.

“I don’t expect you to start right away,” Gaius assured him, giving Jude a onceover that made his cheeks redden. “A break would be wise. But I do expect you to return, and take your place at my side.”

What was the appropriate response to that? There was no room for refusal; he knew from talking to Alvin that Elympians took verbal contracts like bets extremely seriously. It wasn’t like he wanted to get out of it, though. He just wanted to give a more adult response than freezing and acquiring a full-body blush, which was what was happening. His name was going to be in the history books, for goodness sake! Yet, ever since the day Gaius had declared that Jude would grow to love him, making direct eye contact with him felt like having his insides liquified. If it were possible for that sensation to also be pleasant.

He’d spent eight years working his ass off, in part to avoid the level of self-awareness that this situation called for. He really hated admitting that Gaius might have been right, and that just being made aware that it was an option was all it took to open the floodgates. Spending time together as allies… as friends had a lot to do with it.

None of that helped him find his tongue, or unfroze his limbs. Only willpower alone could do that.

“I’m not exactly a strategist, like Rowen and Wingul,” Jude reminded him, scratching the back of his head and ducking his eyes to hide his flush. Rowen had retired a few years earlier… to spend more time with Former Chancellor Marcia.

“We are not presently at war,” Gaius replied, looking perfectly at ease. “You think I have sought your skills for years and not prepared an appropriate position for you?”

“I was under the impression that it wasn’t just my skills you were after,” Jude observed, leaning back in his chair. Time to take control of this encounter. He was an adult, not a hormonal teenager. He still had room to negotiate.

Gaius’s demeanor didn’t change in the least, but the air felt thicker when he replied. “I don’t deny it. However, that is not a job requirement. It can be entirely professional, if you wish.”

“Oh?” As if Gaius wasn’t thinking of impulsive, teenaged Jude in his pajamas at that moment.

“Consider it… an optional perk, if you will.” Gaius was looking at him the same way he had on the couch, like he was approaching a wild animal that he didn’t want to run away. It was time to get on that couch or go back to bed.

“Modest,” Jude observed sarcastically.

“Modesty did not make me King of Rieze Maxia,” Gaius reminded him, crossing the room to lean against Jude’s table, as if suddenly granted permission to get closer.

“No, I guess it didn’t,” Jude allowed, looking up to meet Gaius’s gaze. He’d gotten a bit of a growth spurt at 18, but he still wasn’t tall by any means, and sitting while Gaius was standing made him feel short. Hoping it wasn’t too obvious, Jude stretched theatrically before abandoning the chair to sit on the table. On any other day he would have gotten yelled at, but the library was still silent and empty.

Was this really the first time he’d been completely alone with Gaius in years?

“That day, in my apartment,” Jude began, glancing at Gaius and noticing that he had his full attention. It was still unsettling having the full force of those reddish-purple eyes on him. “What would have happened if there hadn’t been an interruption?”

“As I recall, you initiated,” Gaius pointed out. “I can only speak for what I might have done, and even at the time I didn’t know. At all times I was aware of our experience gap, but I am not one to refuse what is given freely.”

“I was just curious. I guess it doesn’t matter now,” Jude said with a shrug. “It just might have made my decision easier.”

“Oh? How so?” Gaius’s body was angled toward him now, one hand pressed against the table. Good. He was close enough.

“It’s important to know if ‘optional perks’ are all they’re cracked up to be,” Jude replied in his best academic voice. “You can’t make decisions with no data.” That was all the warning he gave Gaius before pulling him down by his tie and kissing him soundly on the mouth.

Though it had been a surprise attack, his majesty was a prepared man by nature. He didn’t hesitate to respond, moving to position himself between Jude’s legs, effectively pinning him to the table. His hands settled firmly on Jude’s hips, enabling him to pull Jude closer and deepen the kiss. He ran his tongue along the seam of Jude’s lips, and they parted eagerly, Jude’s tongue lashing out to meet his. Jude’s hips bucked against his involuntarily when their tongues met, and they both groaned in response, pressing closer together while their hands started exploring each other’s bodies.

Jude expected to find muscle (he had seen Gaius without his shirt before, after all), but seeing was different from feeling. Apparently 8 years of peace wasn’t enough to make Gaius neglect his training, as Jude discovered running his hands down hard muscle. His own physique was considerably less impressive, but that wasn’t stopping Gaius from slipping his hands under Jude’s shirt, leaving trails of fire where he touched.

They were both panting when Gaius finally broke the kiss, turning his attention to Jude’s surprisingly sensitive ears. “You continue to surprise me,” Gaius murmured, nipping the ear lightly so that Jude gasped.

“I wanted to make something clear: I’m not looking for a replacement for Milla,” he said as firmly as he could manage under the circumstances. “Even if our paths don’t meet up again, she’s always with me, so… It’s okay for me to move on.”

It finally felt true as he said it, when it hadn’t before. No wonder his feeble attempts at relationships during the last eight years hadn’t ended too well.

Gaius had moved on to tormenting his neck, causing Jude’s breath to hitch in his throat. “Good,” was all Gaius said, though Jude knew he was more pleased than he was letting on. The hard throb he felt where their hips were pressed together was pretty strong proof.

Jude was absently wondering if this made him a royal concubine (he couldn’t muster much brain power to focus on anything besides the tongue on his neck), when he heard voices in the hallway and stiffened. Gaius must have heard them too, but he had apparently decided to ignore it, going back to kissing Jude until he was breathless.

“-probably holed up in the library,” a high, familiar voice said. “It’s this way, right?”

“How would I know?” That voice definitely belonged to Alvin.

“You never infiltrated the medical school?” Even with seeing her, he knew Elize had her hands on her hips.

It took some effort to pull back. “Gaius,” Jude whispered. “They’re definitely looking for us.”

“I thought you didn’t want to go to your party,” Gaius reminded him, speaking directly into his ear in a way that caused heat to flood his body.

Jude opened his mouth to reply that he didn’t particularly want to be found in this position either, when the door to the library flew open with a bang characteristic of how Leia liked to make entrances.

“Well, there’s one of the missing people,” she declared proudly. “Hey, Gai-er, Erston! Have you seen Jude?”

Alvin’s sigh was audible from across the room. “Leia, for a reporter, you’re pretty bad at reading situations.”

“Now, now, let her have her innocence for a while longer,” Rowen scolded Alvin lightly.

“Are those… Jude’s legs?” Elize asked curiously.

“What?!”

Jude buried his face in his hands. “Just give me a second,” he called out, disentangling himself from Gaius. For his part, Gaius stepped back, raising his eyebrows in a silent question. “Later,” Jude said more quietly, rubbing his temples.

“Aren’t both of you a little old to be having a rendezvous in a school library?” Alvin teased as Jude got his rumpled clothing in order.

“I don’t want to hear that from someone who was in a relationship with a woman who fought with a book,” Jude replied wryly, sliding off the table. “Are we having a party or not?”

* * *

 

It was definitely different having a party where they were all old enough to drink. Even Elize was now, which really drove home how much time had passed. Her alcohol tolerance wasn’t much to speak of though, so she quickly ended up passed out in Leia’s lap. Leia lasted long enough to insist that reporting on a childhood friend by no means compromised her journalistic integrity, before joining Elize on the floor.

“How strong is this stuff?” Jude asked, struggling to make out the words on the label. The symbols were Elympian, though maybe that wasn’t the problem.

“Stronger than I thought,” Alvin admitted. “It’s one of the first batches of whiskey made from naturally grown Elympian grain, so they probably went a bit overboard, and it had a few years to sit. It seemed fitting. It might never have existed if not for you.”

“What a poetic sentiment,” Rowen observed. Aside from a faint redness in his cheeks, Rowen didn’t seem drunk at all.

“Getting maudlin in your old age?” Gaius suggested.

“You’re older than me,” Alvin countered, taking another swig.

Jude remembered little after that, up until they were leaving wherever the party had been. Not because he was drunk; he’d stopped drinking after Alvin admitted what they were drinking, and enough time had passed that he only felt a pleasant warmth in his veins. No, the real reason he couldn’t remember much was because he’d been too focused on Gaius sitting next to him, one of his hands massaging his thigh under the table. He was glad Elize and Leia weren’t awake to notice it, though they were coming around by the time they left.

Alvin wrapped an arm securely around Elize. “I’ll make sure the princess gets to the hotel safely,” he promised, leading her away after a last round of congratulations.

“I shall escort Miss Leia,” Rowen added, offering a similar service.

That left Jude leaning on Gaius, being led away from his hotel room, and toward Orda Palace. Well, he had said ‘later.’

The guards saluted crisply, their expressions entirely professional, though Jude wondered what they thought of it all. There was a part of him that really hoped their king staggering home with flushed 20-somethings really wasn’t a common enough occurrence for them to be used to it. Then again, whole parts of Orda palace were semi-public now, given the historical import of some of the books in the archives. Who could say what the guards had seen?

Jude had forgotten exactly how many transporters and stairs were in Orda Palace. If he’d been just a little bit drunker, getting to wherever Gaius was taking him might have been an impossible task.

“We could have just gone to my hotel room,” Jude pointed out on what he was sure was the hundredth flight of stairs, though it was probably only the fourth.

“I prefer not risking interruption,” Gaius replied, and Jude’s blood heated in response. Even Alvin might have some trouble sneaking up to the royal bedchamber.

Eventually Gaius tugged him down a corridor that he hadn’t known was there, past more guards, and into a bedroom that made his eyes pop. He was honestly surprised that Gaius hadn’t had the whole building scraped for gold leaf to supplement the tax money.

“Rowen said it would be in poor taste to have Nachtigal’s gaudier possessions pawned,” Gaius said, as if reading his mind. He removed his coat and hung it on a coat stand that, judging by the look he gave it, probably would have been the first thing out the door. His boots followed, which he set next to the coat stand.

“The citizens of Rashugal might have taken it the wrong way,” Jude admitted, following suit with his own coat and shoes. “Maybe now, with the Assembly’s approval…”

“If I wanted to endure accusations of attempting to dismantle Rashugal’s cultural heritage,” Gaius replied, shaking his head as he loosened his tie.

Jude could practically see the headlines.

He couldn’t spare any further thoughts for the headlines though, as Gaius had removed his vest and was unbuttoning his shirt. He knew what it looked like under there, he scolded himself, sitting down on the bed. Especially after that ill-fated trip to the hot springs. The mere memory was still enough to make him blush, though maybe that had more to do with the fact that he was watching Gaius strip. All he needed was his sweatpants to recreate the scene from eight years ago.

Well, and much plainer surroundings, and a smaller, harder bed. He wasn’t complaining.

“You aren’t going to undress?” Gaius had paused in his routine, still holding his belt.

“Well…” Jude hesitated, before deciding he might as well go all in. He was still buzzed enough for that to be an easy decision. “I thought you might want to do that for me.”

Gaius quirked an eyebrow in amusement. “As you wish. Rise.”

Jude stood, raising his arms as Gaius tugged up the hem of his shirt. He took his time with it, trailing his fingers up Jude’s torso in a way that made his chest ache. When he finally tugged the shirt over Jude’s head, Jude was already breathless. Maybe that was what he got for giving a king orders.

He was starting to regret the suggestion when Gaius undid his belt and pants, pushing him back onto the bed gently. Aside from the warm, roving fingers, he was now left in nothing but his underwear, while Gaius was mostly fully clothed. He felt a bit like one of the fancy display cakes Leia was forever saving up to buy.

Gaius’s fingers had slipped under the waistband of his underwear when he stopped him. “My turn,” he said simply, and Gaius stepped back, amusement still lighting his eyes, though they were starting to cloud over with lust.

Jude took removing Gaius’s undershirt even more slowly than Gaius had with his shirt. It helped that there was just more skin to work with, as well as more defined muscle to trace the curves of. Still, by the time he finished tugging the undershirt over Gaius’s head, Gaius was gritting his teeth, wearing an expression that could not more clearly have said, “get on with it already.” Still, it had been nine years since he first made his opinion of Jude clear. He could wait a few more minutes.

Pushing Gaius none-too-gently into sitting, Jude set to work unzipping his pants. It was harder than he expected, in a very literal sense, as he could feel Gaius’s semi-hard erection straining against the fabric. There was a part of him that wondered at it; they hadn’t even kissed yet! On the other hand, he wasn’t far behind. So with that in mind, he removed Gaius’s pants much more quickly than he had the shirt. Then, before Gaius could stand back up, Jude plunked himself down on his lap, effectively straddling him.

His goal was just to minimize their height difference, and keep more in control of the situation. He forgot that a side effect of this position was that it would rub their erections together. Clearly the alcohol’s fault, or so he told himself as lightning shot through his veins.

Clearly past the point of being biddable, Gaius grabbed Jude’s backside firmly with both hands and pulled him closer. Their erections rubbed against each other again, causing another rush of lightning and surprised moans, but Gaius held him securely, keeping his hips from bucking. ‘Not yet,’ he seemed to be saying.

They kissed feverishly, Jude’s mouth opening immediately to let in Gaius’s probing tongue. Gaius had hardly been slow and gentle in the library, but he had been restrained. This was different, a rapid and concentrated assault on his senses as Gaius’s tongue sought out the most sensitive parts of his mouth. It made him light-headed, though it was possible that his brain was too overwhelmed to remember to breathe.

It wasn’t as though Jude had never kissed anyone before, or even kissed anyone in a similar state of undress. He’d just never kissed anyone with nearly nine years of history and unrequited longing between them, nearly naked, in a bedroom, with no fear of being interrupted. It was a heady combination, and Gaius massaging his butt only made it worse.

He nearly choked when Gaius finally used his leverage to grind their hips together.

“Do you have enough data?” Gaius spoke directly into his ear, his voice huskier from kissing.

Jude drew a complete blank for a moment before remembering the excuse he’d used in the library. “You’ve got to be kidding me,” he replied, his breath hitching as Gaius caught his ear with his teeth. “Do you even know how experiments are run?”

“Enlighten me.” Gaius had moved on to exploring Jude’s neck again. Like that would stop him from responding coherently.

“The only way to get good data is to run a lot of tests,” Jude explained faintly. Gaius was nipping his clavicle. “Often by running the same test over and over until you’re sure the results are repeatable. If something only happens on a fluke, it’s not really useful information.”

That was enough to halt Gaius’s southward advance. “Then let us collect more data,” he agreed, capturing Jude’s lips before he had a chance to formulate a response. One hand slid up Jude’s side to thumb a nipple, while the other set a rhythm for their increasingly frenzied grinding. Jude ran his hands across Gaius’s chest and arms, enjoying the feel of the hard muscle, and wondering giddly how he could best put that strength to use.

As if sensing his thoughts, Gaius abruptly fell backward, pulling Jude down with him. Then, in one fluid motion, he reversed their positions, pinning Jude heavily to the bed. Jude felt rather than saw his underwear being tugged off, his view blocked by Gaius’s head as he teased Jude’s nipples with his tongue. He gasped as Gaius switched to using his teeth.

“Gaius!” Jude scolded, and was surprised to receive a scolding look in return. “What?”

“Erston.”

Jude knew what he meant. “Here too?” He still hadn’t gotten used to using Gaius’s birth name when he was incognito. It had been a while since he last needed to.

Gaius nodded. “Here, I am not a king. Just a man named Erston.”

“I think the gold leaf on the bed frame might disagree,” Jude observed, yelping when Gaius ran his nipple through his teeth again. “Could you not do that, Erston?”

That earned him a decidedly smug look, but it was easy enough to look past it. Gaius (as he would stubbornly continue to think of him) was shucking his own underwear, giving Jude a brief look at their flushed erections before Gaius wrapped one of his hands around them both, his thumb rubbing their tips. Jude’s groan was muffled by Gaius’s mouth capturing his again, and he was too far gone to care that he had utterly ceded control of the situation. Might as well let Gaius demonstrate the extent of his ‘experience gap’.

When Gaius started stroking their shafts, their kisses grew sloppier, Jude unable to focus on much more than the warm, firm grip. They were both breathing raggedly, hard breaths interspersed with gasps and increasingly audible moans. One particularly hard thrust, coupled with Gaius’s tongue finding just the right spot in Jude’s mouth, had him arching up involuntarily, his vision briefly clouded by stars.

“I’m close,” he panted, a little embarrassed, and Gaius’s hand slowed. It hadn’t taken very long.

“Would you like to finish this way?” Gaius asked, his tone remarkably controlled for a man whose eyes had glazed over.

“I have a choice?” Jude raised an eyebrow.

“Of course.” Gaius’s weight suddenly lifted off him, retreating until his face was between Jude’s legs, hovering above his throbbing erection. “Which would you prefer?”

Jude swallowed heavily. He definitely wasn’t going to last long. “What did I say about needing data to make a decision?”

Gaius smirked, apparently pleased with this answer. He lowered his head swiftly, but Jude stopped him by grabbing his hair.

“Wait,” he said, sitting up gingerly. “This is hardly fair.”

“Oh?” The huskiness in Gaius’s voice almost made Jude lie back down to let him do his worst. Almost.

“Lie on your side,” Jude ordered. Gaius obeyed, understanding dawning in his eyes as Jude positioned himself the same way, except facing the opposite direction. He reached for Gaius’s shaft, popping the tip in his mouth before he could think better of it. Once he’d established a comfortable rhythm of licking and sucking, using his hand to stroke the length that he just couldn’t fit in his mouth, he felt Gaius do the same, and he let out a choked moan.

Not that Gaius was doing much better. Jude wasn’t very experienced when it came to sleeping with other men, but he certainly had no problem experimenting to figure out what Gaius liked. It wasn’t long before Gaius was groaning deep in his throat, the added vibration making Jude dizzy.

As he’d predicted, Jude did not last long. He was barely able to pull back and say, “Erston, I’m-” before he was spending himself in hard spurts. Gaius followed soon after with a harsh cry.

It was only after they had both crawling into more normal positions on the bed, Gaius wrapping himself around Jude as if it were natural, that Jude realized he’d basically lost another bet with the same man. In the end, he’d fallen in love with Gaius, even after insisting it would never happen. He wasn’t even sure how exactly it had happened.

He was going to have fun explaining that one to his parents. Well, he had wondered if it were possible for them to be any more disapproving than they had been about Milla. With a weeklong vacation in Leronde the next thing on his agenda, it was as good a time as any to find out. Maybe the job offer would soften the blow, though Gaius hadn’t yet told him what he was doing. He should probably ask, make sure it was something he could live with, he thought sleepily.

The texts from Alvin the next morning, reading, _How’s life as a royal concubine?_ he could live without.


End file.
